It's worth fighting for
by elveriamoir
Summary: A collection of one-shots, that may or may-not be linked or in order about the characters from the hobbit. I am open to suggestions, but there will be at least fifteen chapters. I would love to hear what you happen to think about them. there may be slash/durincest involved please do not flame me for it.
1. Bofur

_**AN: I apologise now my brain is warped. Please review I would love to hear your thoughts on what I write it really makes my day. **_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the hobbit that is the property of Tolkien. I just took the characters out to play with.**_

Bofur.

Bofur placed the wood he'd been trying to carve for the last two days carefully onto the battered workbench in front of him. He'd been unsettled for almost a year now and yet the last week he'd been unable to focus on anything for very long. His fingers would tremble at the worst possible moments, he would disappear into his head humming unknown songs to himself. He had missed several meals at his brother's house and his cousin had left in disgust only that morning when he had answered a completely different question to the one he had been asked. He narrowed his eyes at the wood sitting innocently on the surface in front of him. He wished he knew what was wrong with him, he was confused beyond belief. He ran callused fingers over the reddish grain of the wood in front of him, eyes fluttering shut as he recalled collecting the almost garishly coloured branch. His distraction had started almost upon finding the branch. No, he realised soft grey eyes flying open in realisation, it had started when he'd come face to face with tightly braided grey hair and hazel eyes. Damn it! Bofur's head fell forward until it touched the workbench, it all started when he'd met the well-mannered tea merchant from the upper town. It all started when he'd been handed the branch and a warm smile.

Bofur lifted his head and narrowed his eyes at the unoffensive bit of wood. He knew what he had to do to get rid of this uncharacteristic behaviour. He cradled the block in mittened hands, smoothing his thumb over the surface. The block was just large enough to make into a box. He could carve the most exquisite patterns onto the lid and sides of the box.


	2. Revenge

_**AN: I do not own the hobbit, its characters or places. I merely decided to play with them one day. Please let me know what you think, I do enjoy reading you reviews. **_

_**A one shot of what happened to the elves of Rivendell after Bilbo's revenge in An Unexpected Hobbit. Thanks to FanFiction Queen for the idea.**_

Revenge.

Elledan and Elleroih had carried the bottles to their father cheerfully. Had they known just what was in them they may have smashed the delicate glass before allowing them anywhere near a family member, as it was they were ignorant of the danger such innocent looking wine could bring. The elves of Rivendell, anxious to put the horrors of being labelled as oath breakers behind them, gathered in a communal party hall. The torches burned brightly in their sockets and the fire crackled merrily on the hearth. The twins had slipped away from the party to share a quite drink with their grandmother, she was willing to try their ale and they cautiously tried the spirit left for her. She found their reactions hilarious and dissolved into laughter at their expense. The twins didn't begrudge her the happiness and smiled up at her once they had stopped choking.

In the party hall the atmosphere was lightening rapidly, the alcohol flowed freely and soon Elrond brought forward the bottles of prized Shire wine. It gleamed in the light of the flames, its depths seeming like blood. Despite the sinister foretell Elrond raised a toast to the forgiveness of Shire folk. He was echoed by the elves clustered in the room and they drank deeply, enjoying the light taste on their tongues, and soon their glasses were empty. The party continued late into the night, dissolving from light hearted gayety to heart wrenching songs of loss. Through a bard's second retelling of the fall of Gil-Galhad, Elrond jerked upright in his seat. There were shadows dancing around the edges of his vision, and howls on the wind. The flames from the torches seemed to climb the walls and the Fire raged dangerously in the hearth. Even as the hall around them burned and Elrond sat frozen and unable to move the air turned icy. He could feel tight packed snow under his body as the cold leeched through his unsuitable clothes. He opened his eyes cautiously, around him was a field of white, across from him lay the burnt out shell of a home, personal belongs scattered on the ground around it. He peered closer and recoiled in horror, there were bodies strewn about its ruin, charred as they were he could see they were the bodies of children. Feet appeared in his vision and a cry of such heart wrenching agony seared forever into his brain, he watched as a young female flung herself into the ruins of what had been her home. He tried to move to reach out to offer comfort when she turned to him with a snarl, blood smeared her face from a wound on her forehead, shadows blackened the skin under her eyes and she was thin and gaunt. "Too little too late!"

Glorinfidel felt his legs go from underneath him as the bard's song became one of loss and mourning of a race different to their own. He shook as the cold seeped into his bones. He had seen horror's in his long life, had even died and being sent back, but nothing could prepare him for the sigh of seeing small, defenceless folk being torn apart before his very eyes. He reached out trying to help, his screams of rage silent in the memory. He saw a young lad twin daggers in his hands standing in front of a group of children, facing down a monstrous wolf. He heard the screams of terror from the children as their protector was ripped apart in front of their eyes. He heard their screams of pain of fear brutally silenced as he knelt there unable to move, to help. He heard a roar and a small body collided with the beast, he watched the innocence in the hobbit's eyes die as she took her first life, she looked up from where she was cradling the corpse of what was obviously her sister, "Too little too late," she choked out.

Erestore shook as he felt the hibiscus flower take control of his mind, he recognised the signs of a forced vision yet could not fight the horror that it showed him when he opened his eyes. He watched a female hobbit standing tall against an army of orcs, he watched as he fellows died around her, each of their deaths falling heavily on her shoulders. He watched as each kill she made, drive a blade deeper into her heart. He saw as she fell to her knees before a female orc, weapon-less and still defiant. He felt his tears well as the orc thrust its blade through her heart. Despite knowing it was a vision he tried to reach for her, to offer comfort she would not be able to feel. A small blur hurtled passed him and echoing cry of "mother" falling from its lips. The young male fell to his knees and Erestore took in the blood soaked amber curls hanging limply around its shoulders. He watched as the male raised his head and stared defiantly at the orc, before flinging his head back and screaming in rage. He saw the heads of hobbits snap up around what had been turned into a battle field. He watched as a small female answered the cry with one of her own despair, he snapped his head around as what were three siblings-one male two female- pounded passed him, growls of anguish and rage flowing from their mouths. His eyes went back to the orc, and he watched in surprise as the female creature took a step back. His attention was grabbed as another female gently lowered the body of a broken child to the ground and pushed unsteadily to her feet in silence. He watched a young lad of no more than fourteen rush forward a gardening fork held tightly in his grip "For Mistress Belladonna!" screamed in rage. Twin lads again not of age raised their heads across the field canines bared in a chilling grin. Erestore's eyes widened as he realised they were all children, none could have seen more than twenty winters. His head snapped back to the sight as the seven underage hobbits surrounded the orc female, "For Belladonna! For our families! For the Shire!" and he watched darkness fill their eyes as rationalisation left them, he saw them attack as if by one. He saw the huge orc female brought to her knees and destroyed. Erestore winced they didn't just kill her they as good as destroyed her. They turned as one to him "Too little too late!"

Galadriel and her grandson's rushed to the party room, weapons drawn as the sounds of screams filled the air. They pulled up short at the entrance, there was no sign of any enemy but all around elves were laid on the ground screaming in fear, begging for forgiveness. Galadriel stooped and raised a goblet to her nose. She cast it from her and raised her head to stare down at the humbled elves. "Hibiscus and revenge," she whispered. "Only used against oath breakers." She looked at her grandsons, "whoever did this had the right to do so, that he spared you two only convinces me of this more." At their questioning looks, she shook her head, "those in their failed to protect innocence, you did not know of the oath and were with me when the Fell Winter occurred." She swept out of the room without a backward glance at her still sobbing kin. The twins turned to each other, before they too backed out of the room and rushed to find their adopted little brother before he could find the adults in his life afflicted this way.


	3. Heres to us

_**AN: This is a one shot for FallenDarkness666, I apologise as I don't think I can write this song into my story at any point now so I hope this makes up for it. **_

_**Don't own any of the hobbit's characters I am just playing with them. **_

_**The song isn't mine it is property of Halestorm. **_

Here's To US.

Ori felt pleasantly warm and comfortable as he glanced around the full tavern. He was well fed and his family and friends were safe. He could see Dwalin immersed in an arm-wrestling contest with the tavern's local strong man. He was sitting with Fili and Kili, Bilbo across the table from them and he could see the hobbit wincing every time the musician hit a dud note. The people of Laketown may have been kind enough to offer them food and lodgings, but Ori had to agree with Bofur's muttered complaint of them being tone deaf. He was shaken from his musings when the Durin brothers slipped from by his side and he watched in amusement as they begged two fiddles from the now resting musicians, he looked over and caught Bilbo's eye, "Oh no! Just no Master Boggins!" he stated, trying his hardest to ignore the pout it got him. "I do not sing in public."

The mischevious glint in Bilbo's eyes deepened as he nodded and made a strange notion to the brothers. Ori jumped when familiar strains bounced around the room, when no heads turned in their direction despite the brothers' energetic playing, he eyed Bilbo thinking deeply.

Bilbo saw the change on his friend's face and with a cry of delight pulled the scribe onto the table top. The tune Fili and Kili were playing changed slightly, the two dwarfs somehow managing to pull a very dwarfish sound from the clearly man made instruments. Ori smirked at Bilbo when he realised what they were playing, "You can join in you know," he whispered.

Bilbo nodded almost bouncing on the spot in excitement, "Aye I will," he smirked, "I wont be attempting it in Khuzdul though." Ori nodded and soon his surprisingly deep voice echoed out, twining with Bilbo's higher pitch.

"We could just go home right now

_Ut sar gos drukat?_  
Or maybe we could stick around

_Ut sar mornat?_  
For just one more drink, oh yeah

_Fur hrun gorog, AI._  
Get another bottle out

_Kaglem andr efhuled_  
Lets shoot the shit

_Thrund de rukhs_  
Sit back down

_Tiwaz_  
For just one more drink, oh yeah

_Fur hrun gorog, AI."_

Ori turned to smirk at the Durin brothers, pulling them onto the table and taking a break in singing as he did. Bilbo's voice hung high and dusky over the room as, Fili and Kili joined them on the table laughing. To their credit neither brother broke the rythem they were playing. Bilbo's eye twinkled as he sung the chorus, his hips and head starting to move in a very hobbitish fashion.

"Here's to us  
Here's to love  
All the times  
That we fucked up  
Here's to you  
Fill the glass  
Cause the last few days  
Have kicked my ass  
So lets give em hell  
Wish everybody well  
Here's to us  
Here's to us"

Ori gave a shout of laughter, drawing the attention of every dwarf in the room to the quartet on the table, his deep baritone mingled in with Bilbo's voice as he once again took up the song.

"Stuck it out this far together

_Mornay katalh thirmr_  
Put our dreams through the shredder

_Rastag utz khanneh mornit de gedat_  
Let's toast cause things got better

_Trogg anad dawr_  
and everything could change like that

_Sar arak sar vaaraaq dataz_  
And all these years go by so fast

_Farrenglos thim vas_  
But nothing lasts forever

_Nai azamarak."_

Soon Bofur's heavily accented tones joined them as, the dwarf raised his voice in song, the hand pipe that had somehow survived the journey, joining the notes of the Durin brothers' fiddles. His eyes glittered as he stared across the room at Dori.

"Here's to us  
Here's to love  
All the times  
That we messed up  
Here's to you  
Fill the glass  
Cause the last few nights  
Have kicked my ass  
If they give you hell  
Tell em to go fuck themselves  
Here's to us  
Here's to us"

Ori failed to switch back into Khudzul now that they had an audience and joy tremoured in his voice as Bilbo drew him into a jig, dancing as they sang. Fili and Kili were stamping their booted feet on the table as they played, their velvet and honey voices joining Bofur, Ori and Bilbo for the next verse.

"Here's to all that we kissed  
And to all that we missed  
To the biggest mistakes  
That we just wouldn't trade  
To us breaking up  
Without us breaking down  
To whatever's come our way"

Dori looked up from his pint to see Bofur watching him, he paid attention to the lyrics he could hear and raised his voice in time to join in the next chorus. As he sung he kept his eyes on Bofur's and found himself moving towards the miner.

"Here's to us  
Here's to love  
All the times  
That we fucked up  
Here's to you  
Fill the glass  
Cause the last few days  
Have kicked my ass  
So let's give em hell  
Wish everybody well"

Dori trailed off when he reached Bofur's side, wondering where he had gotten the courage to sing such a vulgar song in public. The twinkle in Bofur's eyes put him at ease and he leant into the miner's side feeling the hard chest rumble with song.

"Here's to us  
Here's to love  
All the times  
That we messed up  
Here's to you  
Fill the glass  
Cause the last few nights  
Have kicked my ass  
If they give you hell  
Tell em to go fuck themselves  
(Go fuck themselves)  
Here's to us  
Here's to us  
Here's to us  
Here's to us"

Fili and Kili were next to trail off, they were struggling to sing, play dance and breath at the same time, and their voices trailed out as they gulped down oxygen.

"Here's to us  
Here's to love  
Here's to us (Wish everybody well)  
Here's to us  
Here's to love  
Here's to us"

Bofur's voice faded as he stared down into Dori's eyes, he was amazed the polite dwarf hadn't swatted him yet. His voice trailing out left Bilbo and Ori to finish the last line of the song with a flourish. And they did with relish, banging their tankards together at the end of the song.

"Here's to us!"

Silence fell for mere seconds after they were finished, before a wave of noise broke over them. Laughing Bilbo turned to Ori, ignoring the fact he was still standing on a table, "I thought you didn't sing in public?"


	4. Day About Town

_**AN: This is a one shot for FanFiction Queen, I hope I have done it justice for you. **_

_**I don't own any of the hobbit characters I am just taking them out of Tolkien's toy box and playing with them.**_

_**I want to see if you can recognise any names in this (I'm not telling you what, but I would be interested to see if anyone else's head is full of random information. **_

Day About Town.

The market was bustling, the busiest part of the trading day just starting. Farmer Maggot and Farmer Grubb were competing in their sales of fresh produce. Cow man Taurine was peddling his wide range of dairy goods across the lane from Madame Bantam whose stall of eggs gleamed like polished rocks in the morning sunlight. Sandybanks the miller was surrounded by his large sacks of flour, while Banista Brinbrot was resisting the urging of Lobellia Sackville-Baggins to lower his prices. Dorla Fuggles' cart was rapidly emptying and it was she who first noticed that Master Baggins was accompanied by a dwarf on his trip to the market. Her family had always gotten on well with the Bagginses and so she hopped down from the shaft of the cart calling a greeting to him as she did. Dorla had heard rumours that Bilbo Baggins had had some sort of break down the previous evening, but when he introduced her to his companion as the inventor of Shire Black Ale, all thoughts of anything but her brews left her mind. She could feel herself blushing under the scrutiny of the tall dwarf and when he complimented her ale she almost felt like swooning as if she were a tween again. In no time she was exchanging her tales of experimental ales and beers with Dwalin, the dwarf responding in kind with discriptions of the same he'd tried on his travels. Bilbo left them to it and Dorla sniggered to herself as the dwarf watched him leave with an expression of a kicked puppy. She decided she liked the dwarf and wished both he and Master Baggins well, she even went so far as to gift him with several bottles of her newest range. To her surprise he bowed low and kissed the back of her hand.

Dorla's giggles at the gentlemanly response soon drew the eyes of the other hobbits onto their unexpected visitor. Interested eyes watched as the tall, muscle bound male bid Dorla farewell and left to catch up with Master Baggins. Several respectable hobbits stared open mouthed as Master Baggins treated him with a great deal of warmth and offered him a smile not seen in Hobbiton since the death of his parents. Taurine disregarded the soon-to-be-gossiping gentle hobbits and dragged his best customer over to the stall, carrying little if the stranger joined them. He soon realised the dwarf knew little about cheese, or dairy products. Dwalin was once again drawn into a discussion of a tradesman's goods. Bilbo's warm laugh had curious glances sent their way and the market was soon busier than ever as the gentle hobbits refused to leave. The stall holders cheered silently as they mentally calculated just how much more they could sell that day. Taurine was thoroughly enjoying himself, the dwarf seemed anxious to learn all he could and actually interested in what he was being told, although Taurine could tell he was not convinced on the blue cheese. He presented Dwalin with a round of his white brie and cranberry cheese, getting a dazzling smile and dazed look in response. He watched with almost fatherly affection as Bilbo tugged the still gently protesting dwarf away by his elbow.

Farmer Maggot and Farmer Grubb spotted Bilbo approaching and instantly set up a clamour to get the gentle hobbit to buy their produce. It was an act as they knew he would not be swayed by price. Master Baggins had an eye for finding the best of their goods and as such their sales pitch had become friendly banter over the years. Farmer Maggot found himself face to chest with the large dwarf Master Baggins had brought with him for some reason, and in no time was haggling with the large male over the price of some of his aubergines as Master Baggins watched on occasionally giggling with Farmer Grubb. He smiled warmly at the dwarf throughout the interaction, he'd heard Master Baggins had hit a rough patch the night before, but his guest seemed to have pulled him from it and he was grateful to the dwarf for doing so, Master Baggins had had it hard there was no doubt but he was still the nicest, warm hearted, generous hobbit in the whole Shire, if a little strange. Farmer Maggot didn't judge though, if Master Baggins wanted to be friendly with Dwarves then he wouldn't complain, especially since he was getting a tidy profit off said dwarf. Farmer Grubb stood talking amicably with Master Baggins as they both watched Bilbo's guest haggle like a pro with Farmer Maggot. Grubb hadn't enjoyed himself at a market so much since the day he'd found out that Master Baggins wouldn't be swayed by low prices. He was smiling widely and not even caring that his rival was getting the sale from the dwarf, in fact he was so engrossed in the haggling going on that he failed to realise said dwarf had left his rival's stall and was nosing interestedly at his own goods. Soon Farmer Grubb found himself explaining just what artichokes were to a very confused dwarf, he got a bit carried away and somehow ended up selling the dwarf a large paper bag full for a pittance. The child like joy in the larger man's eyes made it worth his while, it was nice when people appreciated just how much hard work he put into his crops.

Farmer Maggot had been having a bad morning for sales, the mid-summer season meant a great many of the gentle hobbits had plenty of their own produce growing in their gardens, the sight of a dwarf happily buying his goods and willing haggling for them had a crowd growing around his stall. He couldn't begrudge Farmer Grubb the sales to Master Baggins as he was soon, selling his own crops left, right and centre. The gentle hobbits were willing to gossip as well as buy, but despite the subtle hints that they would pay more if he gave them information on the dwarf he remained close lipped. If they wanted answers they would have to go to the lad themselves.

Farmer Grubb found that Master Baggins more than made up for his loss on the artichokes with the amount of food he bought. The quantities surprised the farmer but he smiled and laughed without asking probing questions, if his best customer needed more food than what his own garden could provide then that was his business. He glanced over at Farmer Maggot's stall and upon meeting his rival's eyes nodded ever so slightly, he also would be giving nothing away. It was going to be a fantastically profitable morning for the two of them and it was all thanks to Master Baggins and his guest.

Sandybanks greeted Bilbo warmly when the two finally wove their way through the crowds and over to him. He happily exchanged a firm handshake with Bilbo's companion before going on to tell them of what his youngest kit was getting up to. He was flattered by the dwarf hanging on his every word and in an attempt to make the stranger feel more welcome dug through his mind for the tales he had heard of the Khuzdaz peoples. He knew he had hit on something that could interest them both while Master Baggins browsed when the grey eyes lightened and the beard twitched. Ignoring the gossiping hobbits around them Sandybanks talked more to a stranger in the twenty minutes Bilbo was at his stall than he was likely to do for the rest of his life. Dwalin's tales of his nephews' misdeeds had Sandybanks chuckling for the rest of the day and he bid the two farewell with an admonition not to do anything he wouldn't. His dirty laugh chased a blushing Bilbo and a confused Dwalin to the linens stall.

Lobelia watched her cousin's interactions with the strange male with growing anger. She watched as the foolish farmers, crafts-hobbits and trades-hobbits fell for the innocent act the dwarf was putting on. She narrowed her eyes at her cousin's back, she would teach him a lesson about bring such disgraceful people into Hobbiton, she would bet everything on that dwarf being a no-good type of person. He shouldn't be allowed around nice gentle-hobbit folk. Someone should have a word with Bilbo, she drew herself up smiling in a self-satisfied manner. She stepped forward focused solely on her cousin's back, unfortunately for Lobelia Dorla had been watching her for a while. The ale-mistress of the Shire caught Lobelia by an elbow and dragged her out of Master Baggins' way and into a conversation about ale, she would not allow the bitter and twisted women to ruin what small chance of happiness Master Baggins had. Lobelia found herself chased from pillar to post as she tried to get near Bilbo to scold him. When Sandybanks had somehow managed to drop a sack of flour over her flowered dress Lobelia gave up, and stormed off in a huff. The stall holders at the market watched her go with self-satisfied smirks. If the nasty bag thought they would let her mess with Master Baggins and his new friend then she had another thing coming, the smirks turned into warm smiles or wicked grins as they watched Master Baggins drag Dwalin away from their stalls and meander over the bridge into Hobbiton proper.


	5. Bilbo's cookery school

_**AN: I don't own any of the hobbit characters I am just taking them out of Tolkien's toy box and playing with them.**_

_**FanFiction Queen: Khuzdaz is the Khazad for dwarfen (according to the dictionary/guide it means to be about the Khazad so it is just pretty much the plural, Khazad is the dwarfen language don't ask I don't get it either), :D I can imagine Belladonna would have known that. I checked it this time don't worry. I can't imagine hobbits being any other way though, they like comfort and food and with the amount of parties they have they have to be gossips, but yes poor Dwalin. I'll make him a pizza. Thank you for this idea, there will be a cookery scene in Unexpected Encounter as well.**_

Bilbo's cookery school…or why dwarves shouldn't bake.

Bilbo smiled happily at an excitable Ori and Kili. The two dwarves had offered to help him make that evening's meal and so they were currently standing in his kitchen bouncing on the balls of their feet. Bilbo decided to go easy on them since it was their first time at trying to cook and shuffled about getting ingredients to make a mince pie and a chicken pie. Ori was watching him with interest and he soon had the young dwarf weighing out ingredients for the pastry. The dwarf seemed to understand his instructions so he turned his attention to Kili. When both dwarves had their ingredients weighed out-Bilbo tactfully overlooked the flour on the table top and eggs on the floor-he showed them how to combine the ingredients. His nimble fingers soon had the butter and flour a crumbly mixture in his own bowl, but when he looked up to check on the dwarves he was astonished to find Kili had somehow managed to get his to form a solid looking lump. Ori seemed to be managing to get a bread crumb consistency, alibit slowly, so Bilbo attempted to fix what ever had happened to Kili's mix. By the time he had unstuck it from the bottom of the bowl he was swearing fluently and had gathered an audience of Fili and Nori. The two new comers were little help and in a fit of temper, Bilbo somehow got them mixing the meat for the pies.

Deciding Kili's pastry was beyond saving, Bilbo measured him some more of the ingredients out and then gently showed him how to create the bread crumbs. The joy on the raven-haired dwarf's face settled Bilbo's temper a little and he ignored the snickering of Fili and Nori to show Ori and Kili how to add the water to bind the dough together. Both dwarves seemed to have success with this step and it was a beaming Kili and Ori who left their pastry in Bilbo's caring hands.

The hobbit smiled at Fili and Nori before shooing them out of the kitchen. He cautiously stepped around the mess on his flagged floor, desperately not looking at the egg hanging precariously off the ceiling, he didn't know how it had gotten there as he hadn't gotten them started on the egg wash and he didn't want to know. Taking in Ori's greying mound of pastry and Kili's lumpy mess in the dish he sighed and quickly binned the offending pastry. Checking the door was firmly closed it took him only minutes to mix up two fresh batches.

He was rewarded in his deceit when the two dwarves came back to the kitchen twenty minutes later. The joy on their faces had him coughing into his shoulder as he showed them to carefully cover the pie dishes and create shapes with the left over short crust. When the pies were in the oven he turned to them with a wicked grin and handed Ori a bucket and mop, Kili received a bucket and large cloth. Escaping from the kitchen Bilbo leant against the wall with a relieved sigh. If they could turn his kitchen into a war zone with only three ingredients he dread to think what could have happened if he'd tried to teach them something complicated.


	6. Bilbo

_**AN: I don't own any of the hobbit characters I am just taking them out of Tolkien's toy box and playing with them.**_

_**WARNING: will contain violence, if you don't like please don't read it.**_

Bilbo.

The wind was biting at their exposed skin, while the snow lay in deep drifts around them, night was fast approaching, their stomachs were barely full and yet the group of slowly moving hobbits were in high cheer. Rosemary was walking alongside a previously subdued Bilbo, the only one in the group without family travelling with her she had latched onto her childhood friend and had gradually brought him out of his head. Currently she was linking him, and attempting to distract him from the wolf's howl they had heard in the distance merely moments before. She was unworried, knowing the Bounders (of which her father and mother were patrolling that night) could protect them from the wolves at the borders. Bilbo was giggling despite the loss of his father only a week before, Rosemary always managed to cheer him up, either by reciting nonsense poems at him or by telling him of the stupidity of his cousin Drotho who she had been trying to court for the past six months, the male was still oblivious. He smiled as he looked around the group, ahead he could see Primula gestulating wildly to Samel and Reith, while the Hamfast looked at her in some sort of daze, stumbling over the gardening fork he'd won at the mid-winter celebrations. Ahead of them he could see his mother talking to Hamfast's grandmother, the ancient hobbetess setting a brisk pace despite her cane and stooped back. He glanced behind him Drotho, Drella and Drogo were linked in a line, mischievous smiles on their faces, Drella's hair was falling out of her plait and Drogo had a crown of winter aconite wound into his dark curls, they had taken the chance to drink deeply while their parents were out with the bounders, their baby sister staying with Primula's older brother who had opted to stay behind and watch the kits. Bilbo swung his head to face the front of the column, they would be back at Tooksborough before long and he was anxious to get there. He turned to Rosemary with a smile, wondering if he could convince her to bring her siblings with her and stay at Took Hall, there was something foul on the wind tonight and despite his cheer Bilbo couldn't help the shiver that ran down his spine.

Belladonna and Grammy Gamgee pulled up sharp, wary eyes searching the now dark snow drifts around them. Bilbo's eyes widened as he caught the scent of burning, he felt Rosemary stiffen besides him as she obviously caught it as well. He was just too slow to reach out and grab her, and the young hobbit raced through the darkness screaming for her baby brother and six year old sister. A very hobbitish scream of rage echoed back to them before Rosemary had even exited the torchlight, Primula's head came up and her eyes burned, "Promule" she gasped, "Primy" hands shaking and drawing the attention of the Took threesome, she met their eyes and dashed off after Rosemary. The triplets went to chase her, when an unearthly shriek rent the air, and Samel and Reith's mother managed to grab them by the scruff of their coats, their cries of protest cut off as they were suddenly surrounded by glowing green eyes and terrifying laughter.

Light flared to the north, illuminating the scene and the adult hobbits froze unable to comprehend what they saw. Bilbo closed his eyes as fear course through his soul, his sharp ears quickened with the lack of sight and he heard Rosemary's cry of loss and Promule's desperate last breaths, he heard the fearful cries of his friends' siblings cut off into deadly silence, and he heard Primula's shriek of rage echoing across the snow. He didn't have long to dwell as the creatures attacked, the muzzles of the wolves viciously tearing into the hobbits' even before their riders' weapons could reach them. Bilbo looked up and met the identical grey eyes of Samel and Reith, they were as blank as he knew his to be, he felt the Took triplets move slowly to flank him and they cautiously inched out of the carnage. The six tween's were shaking badly, and unable to get to Hamfast they left him standing back to back with his grandmother and managed to slip back towards the edges of Tooksborough, rushing into the darkness to help their friends.

Belladonna stood tall in the centre of the carnage, blades-gifts from friends she met on her travels- finding their way into her hands even as the small arrows of the Bounders failed to make any impact on the armoured orcs and wolves. She had lost sight of her son and his friends, but she had heard the girls' cries of pain and grief welled in her chest at the loss of such young life. The tears froze on her cheeks as she raised her head to stare into the eyes of a fast approaching orc rider. It was an unfair fight, the orc unsuspecting of the viciousness of a cornered hobbit and of her own training. It was dead before it had fully drew back its weapon, the wolf convulsed with one of her blades embedded in its spine. She drew away as their life's-blood stained the snow beneath them. Ignoring its weakly snapping jaws she drew another blade, the runes etched along the blade flickered in the moon and fire light, she stood strong, axe in one hand and sword in the other. Orcs and wolves grew gradually more cautious as she danced with deadly intent. She had felt the blackness in her soul upon her first kill and rage burned deeper still as she heard her kinsmen dying around her. Her brilliant eyes darkened as she thought on the young kits dying in agony and fear, her knuckles were whit in their grip on the weapons as she watched old friend torn apart in front of her, their bows and leather armour little use against such murderous and uncaring foes. Her screams of rage ripped from her throat and she flung herself bodily into the mass of orcs and wolves. They would die, if it meant her own soul had to be un-saveable to do it they would die before she saw them harm another of her kin. Blood poured down her neck drenching the honey-amber curls, staining her white shirt a vivid red, she ignored it as she continued on her dance. The grizzly flashes she caught from the corner of her eye only spurring her on. Her eyes fixed upon what could only be the lead of the roving band and she turned her anger in that direction. As she drew closer she could tell it was a female, and mounted she would stand head and shoulders above the already massive orcs that were destroying her people. Belladonna could feel the last of her rational though slip from her as she pulled the sword from the neck of another beast. Her path was unbarred, the rest of the brutes leaving her for easier pray, she roared the sound deeper than it had any right to be for a creature of her size, *Fight back!* she cried in her mother tongue, *Take up arms and FIGHT!* her voice hung in the air and something seemed to snap in the surviving hobbits, suddenly they turned on the attackers. She turned back to the female and saw anger and recognition in its eyes. Around her hobbits grouped together, like a group of mice turning on a downed kestrel, they tore into the orc ranks with single minded intent. Belladonna saw none of this her focus solely on the massive female now bearing down on her. She narrowed her sharp hazel-green eyes and bared her teeth, urging the creatures on. When the massive wolf was in range she drew back her left arm. The axe flew straight and true, embedding itself deep within the wolf's skull, its dwarfen blade slicing easily through the heavy leather armour, thick fur, heavy hide and dense bone. The wolf dropped so suddenly that the female orc flew across its head. Belladonna watched as with a roll the creature seemed to manage to land on its feet. Then suddenly it was upon her. With only her sword left Belladonna knew she had little chance of holding off the massive creature for long, but her blood still pounded in her ears and rage at the slaughter of innocents burned in her veins, so instead of running she spread her feet, flung back her head and screamed into the night.

The ragged sound echoed from the snow instead of sinking into it. At the edges of the battle Bilbo's head snapped up and his sharp eyes searched desperately, he dogged a blow with ease, slipping beneath the creatures guard and ending its life even as he found her figure. *Mother!* he screamed. He was moving without fully realising it, a dread in his heart told him he would be too late and he started to run. His eyes never left her figure, even as he raced passed his kin struggling to hold their own. He saw in horror the deadly mace crash into his mother's right elbow and send her flying. His eyes narrowed as she landed hard, struggling to her feet weapon-less and broken, she still stood firm in front of the advancing creature. *Mother NO!* he felt the scream leave his mouth, tearing his throat even as the blade sank deep into her chest. He froze merely seconds as the creature turned its back on this mother's now crumpled form before rushing to her. He dropped into the blood soaked snow by her side, and gently turned her over. He brushed back her hair with trembling hands, his own tears freezing on his cheeks, his heart burned in his chest and he cradled her to him, gasping for breath in his grief. He closed his eyes resting his forehead on hers, his body was shaking and the sounds around him seemed deadened. He placed a gentle kiss to her cheeks, closing her eyes as he did. Hands cramping, he gently lowered her body back down to lie on the snow. His eyes found the broad back of the female orc and he felt his chest vibrate with a growl, he roared his grief and rage, tearing his throat further as he instinctively flung back his head to allow the sound to travel. The orc turned and looked at him in bemusement but Bilbo stood his ground. They would pay.

Rosemary heard Bilbo's cry and knew instinctively what had happened, she pushed from the ashes of her home, a cry of her own despair echoing in the air around her as she stepped away from the burnt and broken bodies of her younger siblings. She found his form so small and defiant in the centre of the open field at the boundaries of Tooksborough. She straightened her spine and felt her body begin to shake, she rushed to stand by his side. They would pay.

Primula's head snapped up from where she was sobbing silently over the bodies of her baby sister and her older brother. The rage and pain in the scream echoed to her own soul and she raced to her cousin's side without a second thought. Her hands curled into claws and she snarled silently, the sounds around her fade to nothing. They would pay.

Hamfast turned from his Grandmother's side, his uncle had joined the fight and the grief in his friend's scream called to him. eyes wide as he realised what must of happened he was moving towards Bilbo's defiant form even as it started to sink into his family he was leaving them, *For Mistress Belladonna* he screamed, his young mind already pushed to the point of despair he raced to Bilbo's side, tears now flowing freely down his face.

Samel and Reith paused momentarily in their tracking of a wounded orc, they had watched as it slunk away from their mother's unmoving form, her decorative hat pin lodged in its chest. Rage had burned hot and bright and they had stalked it, Bilbo's cry broke them from their hunt and they turned to him as one, toothy smiles bared on their faces. They stalked away from their pray, anger suffusing every move they crept closer to the back of the female orc.

Drotho, Drella and Drogo snarled as they raced towards their cousin. They had seen their aunt fall, they had lost their sister and now Bilbo was in pain so deep they could feel it. They moved as one eyes almost black as they rushed towards the orc.

Their young faces were murderous and their eyes dead as they surrounded the creature. Red haze hung in front of their vision as they moved as one to end the threat to their kin, the murderer of their families. Grief, hatred and anger flowed like molten lava through their veins as they closed the circle tighter. Their movements were controlled until the last moments, when they swarmed the female. She fought back desperation giving her strength, but they were so far gone in their pain that they felt none of the blows she landed. Mainly weapon-less they used teeth and nails to tear into her.

As the sun rose it showed a scene of horror and violence. The bodies of hobbit and orc alike scattered the ground staining the white snow in a tapestry of black and red, while smoke spiralled from the shells of burnt houses. Silence was haunting over the scene of death. Pale and drawn hobbits were carefully and quietly picking their way through the bodies, determined to find and remove their loved ones from among the monsters, determined to help any that still lived. The silence was broken suddenly and viciously when as one, the grief and horror of what they had just been through and just done hit nine young hobbits. As the adults rushed to them their sobs and screams broke the hearts of those arriving to aide, and destroyed the hearts of those who had survived.


	7. Dis

_**AN: I do not own the hobbit, its characters or places. I merely decided to play with them one day. Please let me know what you think, I do enjoy reading you reviews. If this doesn't fit in with Middle Earth I apologise but my mind is still revelling in WGW and refuses to come back to reality. **_

DIS.

She stretched, arching her back as she climbed from the rumpled fur throws on her makeshift bed. Today was going to be fantastic, she just knew it. Standing in front of the mirror she observed her naked form with a critical eye. The strong muscles in her arms and legs flexed when she tensed them and the well-defined muscles of her stomach brought a smile to her face. Her pale skin showed the dark-jagged forms of her tattoos clearly, the sharp forms ranging across the canvass of her flesh. The small tattoo of the Star of Durin sitting by her right eye caught her attention. It was her newest addition, given to her as a gift to herself for surviving the latest raid on the orc packs ranging to the north of Erebore. She might not be of age but she was deadly. A leader in her own right. She had singlehandedly created a group of female warriors, their skill in weapon matched only by those in the royal guard. She trained alongside Dwalin, and fought alongside the women of her clan when they left the safety of the kingdom. She ran a callused hand over her latest scar, gotten just days before the Star of Durin before pulling herself together. She smiled wickedly at her reflection before starting to prepare for the evening's festivities.

Sitting at an ornate stone dressing table she started to weave her hair into an intricate braid design. It had taken her years of practice and the results were spectacular. Two single braids hung down by the side of her face held by two beautiful but simple silver clasps, the stark blackness showing the paleness of her skin to perfection. The simple braids in her beard were held by the identical silver clasps, the material echoing the beads in her braids made by her family. Satisfied that the intricate hairstyle would hold she turned her attention to the simple makeup she would wear. It took her merely seconds to outline her blue-black eyes with kohl, the darkness making them appear mysterious. She dipped a fine bristle brush into a pot of red-black bee's wax painting it onto her lips with a steady hand. The red was the only colour on her face and she smiled at her reflection. She looked good.

Standing again she crossed the room to her real bed where the evenings clothing was laid out ready. She pulled on a heavy lace shirt, tugging the high neck to sit snug against her neck. Her skin showed in patches through the material, the tattoos blocking the delicate pattern somewhat. She shook out a pair of skin tight black leather trousers, tucking in the slim fitting shirt and lacing them snuggly across her lower stomach. She pulled leather boots over her feet, making short work of lacing them up to mid-thigh she slid a sheathed dagger into the side of each. Straightening she picked up the second last item of her wardrobe. A heavy black corset that covered her from chest to hip, it had taken her years of practice, almost as long as her hair, but now she could lace it up herself. The heavy material sat flush against her when she was done. Her muscular figure appearing more feminine by the simplicity of a few steel bones and strong lacing. She smirked, the gossips would definitely be silenced that night, and she would finally begin courting her chosen. With that thought she set her shoulders back and attached the final part of her outfit, sliding the leather wrist guards into place just as a knock sounded at her door.

"Come!" She smiled more softly as Thorin poked his head threw the door. Her brother would break a few hearts that night. He was dress similarly to her. His eyes were heavily outlined, but he had forgone the lip colour. His hair held two simple braids clasped in silver and holding their family beads. He also wore thigh length leather boots and skin-tight black leather trousers. He was not wearing lace or a corset though. The rest of his outfit consisted of a form fitting, high necked, black, silk tunic worn under an open fronted knee length robe of black velvet, which was hemmed with silver runes. His own tattoos and scars were well hidden. "I'm ready brother mine," she linked his arm and they smiled at each other, "this will be a night to remember."

_**Set just before Thror fell into gold-madness. Set before Dis married and had children (so sorry Fili and Kili don't exist yet). I can only assume with the importance of Durin's Day that the dwarves would celebrate it. Please review and let me know what you think. I do so enjoy reading them. **_


	8. Dwalin

_**AN: I don't own any of the hobbit characters I am just taking them out of Tolkien's toy box and playing with them.**_

_**FanFiction Queen: Thought about it, can't get it to work. I keep making myself ill with the sheer slush it comes out with. I can't do it. Not yet anyway. Maybe I will be able to with time. Sorry **__** peace offering. **_

Dwalin

He stared at his king and shield brother in disbelief. Thorin just could not be saying those words. He could not possibly be banishing the one person who had had the sense not to give in to the gold-sickness. He felt an icy hand clench around his heart as he saw tears on his One's cheeks. Around him no one dared move in-case they were the reason their king let go of their hobbit, their friend. He watched as the final last shred of hope left Bofur's eyes. He watched as his brother sunk in on himself unable to go against his king to rescue a friend. He watched helplessly as his One shrugged from Dori's protective grasp and ducked under Nori's outstretched arm. His knees gave up their strength as Ori Grabbed Bilbo's arm and forcefully pulled their king away from the hobbit. He gasped silently in pain as his king turned his wrath on his One. Dwalin' s heart broke as Ori gave him a look of deepest hurt before turning his back on his family and their love, leaving to scrabble down the wall. Dwalin howled his grief into the night as he felt his heart shatter into pieces, he stayed on his knees sobbing even after he had no more tears left to fall. He had lost, no matter what happened he had lost. The mountain was not a home without his One, all the gold and jewels in the world more worthless than dust without Ori by his side. He had lost all because he was to set in his ways, too afraid of what may happen if he moved. He raked his nails across the rough-hewn rock and screamed until his throat was bleeding. He had lost.

_**AN: Please don't kill me, I'm sorry I don't know where that came from. I wanted to write a nice happy cute Dwalin chapter. I am going to go sob in a corner now, I didn't want to break him that much. Please review, I will be in my pit.**_


	9. Gandalf

_**AN: I don't own any of the hobbit characters I am just taking them out of Tolkien's toy box and playing with them.**_

_**FanFiction Queen: Just for you…or at least to stop you hunting me down until I have the brains to write a long chapter. **_

Gandalf.

Gandalf sat staring at his oldest companion in complete disbelief. After all these years the man had just thorn everything he'd had to say to one side with a dismissive gesture and a few words. He clenched his fists beneath the table forcing down his anger and keeping his face blank as he listened to Sauroman tell him extreme detail just why he should listen to Rhadagast. He tuned the white wizard out as his thoughts turned onto the dwarves and single hobbit he had been traveling with. He hoped they were using this opportunity to retreat from Rivendell, he also hoped Thorin managed to use common sense for once and put whatever grudge he had against Bilbo to one side. He focused back to find the white wizard still talking, he met Elrond's blank gaze and was hard pushed not to laugh. The elf's face was a picture study of bland interest, but to someone who had known him well the elf was obviously bored and rapidly becoming annoyed. Gandalf fought back the urge to laugh hysterically, Galadriel's voice in the back of him mind stopped that urge all together. She did remind him of important proof his slightly odd friend had presented him with. Gandalf placed the wraith blade on the table and bit down on his bottom lip hard as Sauroman fell silent almost immediately. Stupid white wizard, always thinking he was better, serves him right.


End file.
